


The Girl Who Could Sway Death

by MaddRae



Series: The Daughter Series [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Father-Daughter Relationship, Other, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 05:13:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14395035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaddRae/pseuds/MaddRae
Summary: Another Talon mission and another fuck up. Perfect. What was supposed to be a simple grab and go had turned into a mess. Again. Now Reaper was forced to bide his time hidden away in a hovel with a random civilian who smelled like caramel and memories he'd rather leave buried.





	The Girl Who Could Sway Death

What. A. Fucking. Disaster. Holy shit. Reaper wasn’t exactly sure _what_ had gone wrong, but all of a sudden the carefully plotted mission Talon had planned was up in smoke. Literal smoke. Smoke bombs and what smelled like a grease fire. “Damn,” he seethed, returning to his corporeal form after shadow-stepping away from the confusion. There was nothing more he could do.

“That was interesting,” Sombra laughed, materializing behind Reaper with a light purple flash. “Did we at least get what we were after?”

“We better have,” the masked man snarled.

“Reaper,” came Doomfist’s voice over the communicator, “report. I have obtained the objective, but _clearly,_ something has gone wrong on the upper floors.” He sounded aggravated, which was rather out of character for him. The giant man was usually exceeding clam under pressure.

“There’s a fire raging on the south end of the first, second, and third floors. Get out through the main stairwell,” he responded.

“Negative,” Widowmaker interjected, “there are hostiles grouping near that exit and part of the ceiling has crumbled. You escape will likely be blocked by rubble soon.”

“I can handle rubble,” Ogundimu boasted.

“No,” Reaper insisted, “this was pointless if you bring the whole damn place down on your head. Doomfist, use the elevator shaft and then bust through the outer wall. You get out, and the warehouse will likely come down after. Sombra and I will be waiting. “

“Understood, Doomfist out.”

“You’ve always got a plan, don’t you, Shadow Man,” Sombra grinned heading to the rendezvous point with Reaper in tow.

“Someone ought to,” he grumbled.

A small blue light flashed on Sombra’s arm and the purple-clad woman brought up the electronic display on her forearm. The holographic screen popped up with what looked like a news bulletin. She was instantly engrossed in reading. Reaper heard a set of heavy footsteps from behind the wall she was leaning against and sighed. “Move.”

“What,” she said looking up with a frown.

“ _Move,”_ he hissed, “unless you want Ogundimu to punch through the wall _and_ you.”

The faint, familiar electronic whirring of the Doomfist made Sombra’s eyes widen. She sprinted away with her head covered. Reaper chuckled just before brick and mortar flew into the air. “Might want to look up from the screen from time to time, Sombra,” he snarked. She scowled and flipped him off.

“Enough, let’s move,” Doomfist said brushing dust off his chest. “I want to be out of the country before daylight.”

“That’s going to be a problem,” the hacker sighed. “Just got an emergency notice the city sent out – the whole place is on lockdown.”

“Lockdown,” the blue sniper said dropping to the ground beside them, “How severe?”

“Severe,” she pouted, “Like every cop in town is out and they called in every other cop within a two-hour radius to help with patrols. There’s already helicopters in the air and I’m sure they’ve already commandeered every security camera around.”

Reaper let out a bitter growl. The last thing he needed was another night with these ingrates – the past three days of scoping and intel gathering had very nearly pushed him over the edge.

Doomfist pursed his lips, staring into the smoky sky above. “Of course.”

“The city responded quite quickly,” Lacroix mused sound vaguely impressed.

“Probably put out the call as soon as we broke in here,” Reaper said. “We’ll have to find a place to lay low.”

“If we stick to the grittier side of town we should be good – fewer cameras, more people who won’t be brave enough to confront us,” Sombra suggested.

“Agreed,” Ogundimu nodded as the building to their side made a worrying creak. “We should get moving.”

The four of them navigated through alleyways slowly: Widowmaker watching from above, Sombra sprinting ahead while invisible, Reaper misting into storefronts to shoot out lights, and Doomfist taking out a few odd policemen silently. The living quarters in this part of the city were already rundown and tightly packed, but the further the group went, the more dismal things became. Reaper could feel the roaches crawling over him already.

“Mierda,” Sombra snapped after twenty-five minutes, “how can it be this hard to find a place to camp out?!”

“Well I’ll be,” came an unfamiliar voice, “is that my favorite little troublemaker I hear?” Reaper slunk deeper into the darkness, making sure he was out of view. Doomfist followed suit, priming his hand cannon.

Sombra whirled around, surprised, but opened her arms out wide a split second later.  “Sunshine! What the hell are you doing out here?”

“Closing down the shop,” a tall woman with fierce cheekbones said gesturing to the metal garage door behind her. “I’d ask what you’re up to, but I’m guessing it has something to do with all the alarms going off at the research facility up the road.”

“Maybe,” Sombra said teasingly, hugging the woman in front of her.

“I won’t pry,” the woman said putting her hands on her hips with a grin, “but just so you know, you’re welcome to crash with me for the night – in exchange for a favor or two, of course.”

“Aw, Sunshine, you always seem to pop up just when I need ya,” Sombra cooed.

“And you always seem to pop up when I’m making cajeta tamales,” she said opening the door with a flourish. “Good thing I always make too many.”

Reaper was suddenly struck by how much he missed proper tamales. Even though his sense of taste had been all but demolished by the incident, the aging man still had plenty of cravings. Evidently, Sombra felt the same since she was literally wriggling with excitement.

“Ugh, Sunshine, honey, that sounds _perfect_ , but, eh,” the hacker smiled with feigned innocence, “how much room you got in there?”

The woman raised a brow, “Why?”

“I’m sort of traveling with some friends . . .”

“Friends?”

“Allies. Of the criminal variety.”

Sunshine shook her head. “I might have known, but don’t worry, it’s not like I’m running a legal operation either. Invite ‘em in.”

Sombra glanced behind her expectantly, but no one moved. Ogundimu and Reaper looked to one another, both feeling the uncertainty coming off each other. Doomfist reached to his ear and spoke softly, “Widowmaker, stay outside and keep an eye on the girl. Take her out if things go sour.”

“But of course,” the sniper said flatly. Sombra gave the martial arts master a dirty look as he rounded the corner. Sunshine stared on in awe.

“You’re shitting me,” the young woman said with a stunned laugh.

“Old friend, I’d like you to meet Doomfist, Doomfist, Sunshine,” Sombra said proudly.

The woman regained her composure but flushed. “Forgive me,” she apologized, “I didn’t mean to be impolite. It’s a pleasure, sir.”

The man flashed a charming smile and shook her hand. “Likewise, I’m sure.”

Reaper rolled his eyes behind his mask, moving behind the oddly named girl. He let out an unimpressed huff. “Shouldn’t we be getting _inside_? _Out_ of the open?”

It looked like Sunshine had almost jumped out of her skin, making the masked man smirk. She recovered quicker than most. “Please come in,” the woman said stepping out of the way. The four slipped into the small apartment with no choice but to squish together. No. There was no way Reaper was going to stay here. He’d rather sleep in the street. He was not about to suffer through another night of Akande’s snoring and Sombra’s need to snuggle something as she slept. This morning he’d woken up to her clutching his lower leg. Never. Again. Smelled like heaven in here, though . . .

Sunshine giggled awkwardly, “Sorry for the tight fit, the shop is roomier. Door’s behind you, Sombra.” The Talon operatives moved from the sparsely decorated living quarters into a spacious, clean, professional workshop. Every tool had its place and every surface was spotless. Even better, there was room for him to perch on a bench and sleep peacefully. He sat removed from everyone else as they made small talk.

“A nice little setup you have here,” Doomfist said.

“Thank you, sir,” Sunshine said bowing her head politely. “It may not be the fanciest place, but I believe the hand wielding the tool is more than the equipment itself.”

Doomfist chuckled uncharacteristically. “I would agree.”

The young woman smiled at Ogundimu, then frowned. “It looks like your system took a hit.” Reaper suddenly noticed that the paneling on the large man’s left arm was damaged, bent with wires fraying out of it. The prosthetics of the limb not wielding the Doomfist were subtle, painted the same color as Ogundimu’s skin. Reaper had often wondered if there was a bit of lingering shame there, but he did not care enough to ask. However, the way Ogundimu quickly attempted to twist the broken mechanism out of view, may have just given Reaper his answer.

“It is nothing I won’t be able to repair,” he assured her, confidence returning to him just as quickly as it had left.

“I could take a look, if you like,” Sunshine offered, giving the broken technology a curious look.    “

I beg your pardon?” Ogundimu instinctively leaned back as the woman leaned closer.

She straightened, “I specialize in prosthetics, organic-synthetic integration to be specific.”

“Do you now . . .” he said, still skeptical.

“I can vouch for her,” Sombra chimed in from the desk chair she had claimed.

“You have always been my best work and the work I most worry about, Sombra,” Sunshine smirked.

“ _You_ made Sombra,” Reaper scoffed.

“Yes. Well, sorta. I got her up and running. When I met this asshole her new system had just been installed by some idiotic hack. Girl was all but dead in the street, so I scooped her up and dragged her home. I couldn’t bring myself to leave all that pretty tech in the gutter, no matter how much Sombra tried to threaten me.”

“Gotta admit,” the hacker shrugged, “I wouldn’t be able to do half the work I do without this little sunspot.”

“You wouldn’t be able to do _any_ work. Because you would be dead,” the young woman corrected.

“Also yes,” Sombra said with a stretch.

“But,” Sunshine turned back to Ogundimu, “if you are protective of your prosthetics, I understand. To each their own.”

Doomfist still looked unsure, but in the end sighed. “I suppose it would be best for me to be repaired sooner rather than later, but know that I will be watching carefully and would have no problem breaking your arms in an instant.”

Sunshine grinned good-naturedly, raising her hands in surrender, “But of course! Please, take a seat.”

Reaper watched with mild curiosity as the young woman set to reconnecting the wires and tweaking the sensors in the small patch of circuitry under Doomfist’s elbow. She was quick, precise, and focused. And smiling. Even the edgelord himself admired someone who took pride in their work. She was tall – likely about six foot – with sleek black hair wrangled up into a sloppy bun. Skin the color of coffee with a splash of milk. A sharply slanted nose with a small flattened tip. Expressive dark blue eyes that looked vaguely familiar . . .

“So,” Ogundimu mused while keeping an eye on the woman, “Sunshine. Interesting monicker.”

She laughed. “Yeah, I know. It’s been my nickname since I was a child.”

“I can’t quite tell if it’s meant to be ironic or not,” he said with a thin smile.

“It wasn’t at first, but as the years go by the name is becoming less apt,” she shrugged.

“You never did tell me how you ended up with it,” Sombra hinted. “Just that you got it from your commander in the Orphan’s Army.”

“Orphan’s Army,” Doomfist said tilting his head.

“Bunch of kids got abducted from orphanages when the omnic shit-show started up. They were raised to ‘fight for humanity.’ It was some crazy shit, but they were tough as hell. And often insane, but Sunshine here’s a good one,” Sombra explained.

“How have you not heard about the Orphan’s Army?” Sunshine spoke with a mouth full of drill bit.

“Prison,” Sombra whispered, obviously trying to annoy Ogundimu. Judging by his face, it worked.

“I see,” the young woman nodded, unfazed. “Well, Sombra’s right, the whole thing was a mess, but it was my mess.”

“How long were with them,” Doomfist asked.

“From age two ‘til seventeen, when the organization fell apart enough for me to run. Unorganized assholes were holding me back,” she grinned. Sombra high-fived her. “But, back to the nickname, _that_ came from the fact that I was the most chipper mini-soldier in the bunker. It was inspired by my real name.”

“Which is . . .” Sombra pushed, smelling a secret.

The young woman re-wrapped her bun as her cheeks flushed a bit. “Promise you’ll kill me quickly if you get mad,” she said flashing a cute smile. Reaper and Doomfist both squinted at her. Sombra leaned forward excitedly.

“Promise,” the hacker said putting her hand over her heart.

Sunshine’s eyes went back to the repairs as she sighed, “My birth name is Sonya, Sonya Reyes.”

Reaper’s head twitched to the girl, as his colleges’ eyes darted to look at him. He shrugged. Reyes wasn’t that uncommon of a name, but the masked man couldn’t deny that every muscle in his body had tensed up as ‘Sunshine’ said that name.

“Sonya Reyes,” Ogundimu repeated thoughtfully.

“Yup,” the young woman said, “Then it was ‘Ray of Sunshine,’ which just turned into just Sunshine.”

“Reyes,” Doomfist repeated, making it clear what he wanted to know.

She removed the broken metal plate from Ogundimu’s arm and placed it under a scanner which slowly began to bend it back into shape. “Yes, Reyes,” she said polishing her tools and putting them away. “And yes, _that_ Reyes. Mr. Hot-Shot Overwatch Man was my father.”

Reaper crossed his arms uncomfortably. She had to be wrong. He did _not_ have a daughter. The man had run the covert ops branch of Overwatch – he would have known if there was a child out there with his blood. But she did have a jawline that reminded him of –  No! She was wrong.

Sombra was laughing so hard she nearly fell out of her chair, “Hostia! Sunshine, are you serious?!”

“Sure am,” she said warily.

“I was unaware Gabriel Reyes had a daughter,” Doomfist said scrutinizing Reaper. The former Blackwatch agent couldn’t read Ogundimu’s expression, but he knew this was going to be a whole conversation later. Reaper sulked, a bit of black fog wafting off him.

“I don’t think anyone knew,” Sunshine explained, “probably not even Mr. Reyes himself. I don’t think he and my mother weren’t really on the best of terms.”

“You were an oopsie-baby, weren’t you,” Sombra interrupted.

Sunshine chuckled, “Oh yeah – I was NOT planned. I did some research a while ago and found out that I’m a love child, the product of a scandalous affair.”

Everything clicked in Reaper’s mind. Sunshine looked like she was in her twenties. Two decades ago he was dating Nora for the fourth year. Things had not been going well: she wanted to move forward, get married, settle down, have Gabriel take more of a desk job. That wasn’t happening. In fact, he took more missions just to avoid Nora, and things only got worse. He’d met a beautiful, wild woman living near the Swiss base and they started up an affair. It had been months of astounding sex and heated arguments, a cycle of destructive passion that had not ended well. Nora had found out and left days after the infidelity ended. Now the mistake had come back to bite him in the ass all over again. Reaper had to concentrate to keep from misting out the situation in a panic.

“On another note,” Sunshine said brightly, “you should be good go, Doomfist.” With a soft click, Ogundimu was whole again. He moved his fingers and did a secondary check of his ranged weapon with a grave look. The young woman watched nervously until a grin spread across massive man’s features.

“You appear to be quite skilled, young lady.”

“Thank you, happy to help,” she beamed.

“Told you she was good,” Sombra boasted.

Doomfist gave her another evaluative glance. “Tell me, Sunshine,” he clearly wasn’t a fan of the name, “what exactly are you doing here in the city?”

An annoyed look came over her. “Whatever I can to make some cash. I’d moved here hoping for some good business – tweaking prosthetics, modifying weapons, that sort of thing, but this place has proved entirely boring. I’m just saving up enough to move on at this point.”

“You know, Talon could use someone who knows augmented systems,” he hinted.

“Yes,” Sombra said overly enthusiastic.

“What,” Reaper choked, fully panicking now.

“Um,” Sunshine smiled awkwardly, “maybe I ought to give you a chance to talk things over. The tamales should be just about ready, I’ll bring them out.”

“YES,” Sombra boomed.

All eyes were on Reaper as soon as Sunshine left the room. He rolled his head back and let his shoulder slump.

“Congratulations Gabe,” Sombra said in a smug voice, “it’s a girl!”

“Do you ever shut up,” he snapped back.

“Did you really not know about her,” Ogundimu asked.

“I had no idea,” he sighed honestly.

“You know what her mom’s name is?” Sombra brought up her display again.

Reaper frowned, “Why?”

“Research time,” the hacker sang.

“That is not necessary,” he growled.

“Oh come on,” Sombra insisted, “don’t you wanna know what your baby has been up to all her life? Or what happened to her momma?”

The dark clad man rubbed his neck, unable to deny the curiosity swimming in his mind now that the frenzied first thoughts had died down. He had a daughter. A fucking daughter. A god damned combat trained, civilian army ditching, criminally-minded daughter. He was concerned, but also . . . proud. Very proud. She seemed like a tough little shit, if a tad reckless – just letting Talon members into her home. But telling them to piss off probably wouldn’t have gone well either. She had handled herself well.

“Her mother is Angelica Ruth Cotter,” Reaper said moving to the hacker’s side. “Went by Ruby most of the time.”

Sombra had pulled up a myriad of records in seconds. “Oh,” she said lowly.

“What is it,” Reaper said inching closer.

“Your baby momma is behind bars. For driving drunk. And vehicular homicide. And some other nasty stuff. Looks like you really know how to pick ‘em.”

“Can it,” he snarled. Ruby had never been the upstanding type, but damn.

“This her,” the hacker said bringing up a few photos. Reaper nodded. Pale skin, dark hair, bright red lipstick – even in her mugshot. Looked like she’d been getting into drugs, too. “Guess Sunshine’s probably better off without her,” Sombra mused

“Why have you not looked into this friend of yours before,” Ogundimu questioned.

The hacker shrugged, “She didn’t butt into my life when she saved me, so I figured I owed her the same. I mean, I _do_ owe the girl my life and my livelihood.”

Reaper was admittedly relieved his daughter was on Sombra’s good side. “What did you find on her,” he pressed, looking at the holographic screen.

“Not a whole lot,” she admitted, “she grew up under the radar and knows when to run. Did find her birth certificate and the papers her mom filled out when she gave her up. Closed adoption. Didn’t want anything to do with – oh my god she was a cute baby!”

A photo popped up and expanded of a fluffy little bundle in a pink blanket. Big, focused eyes surrounded by thick black hair stared at Reaper as he began to smile warmly. For once it had nothing to do with murder.

“But anyway,” Sombra continued, “she’s a solid gal – smart and talented. I can’t see a reason we _wouldn’t_ sign her on. And I’m not just saying all this because I want her to give me a tune-up.”

Doomfist turned to the masked man, “I trust you would be professional about this situation, Reyes?”

The superior tone of voice made Reaper scowl, but not as much as the idea of Sonya joining Talon. Even though he would like to keep an eye on her, having the young woman alongside him as he sought revenge was the farthest thing from safe. “If you think she’ll be useful, I have no objections,” he lied.

Ogundimu took his time staring Reaper down with an appraising eye. The older man huffed, unimpressed. Doomfist didn’t scare him, never had. “You gonna make a decision or not,” he growled, “girl’s going to come through the door any second now.”

“I can smell that sweet, sweet caramel from here,” Sombra said wistfully.

As if on cue, Sunshine backed through the door with a plate in her hands. Fuck. Those. Smelled Good. Reaper had never missed his taste buds so damn much. He’d always had a sweet tooth. Widowmaker strolled in behind Sonya munching a tamale with a bored expression.

“Your sniper needs to talk to you, I guess,” Sunshine said sounding slightly perturbed. “She broke in through the window.”

“The city lockdown is changing – they believe we are still in the city and are therefore sweeping through sectors of the city. A large portion of the police force will be concentrated in one area. We will likely be able to sneak out if we do so quickly from the Eastern road,” the shapely woman informed them.

“Good,” Ogundimu said standing, “Sunshine, interested in joining us?”

The young woman glanced around the room, and upon hearing no objections, grinned. “I would be honored!”

Doomfist smiled, “Can you pack up quickly or shall we arrange for a pick up?”

“The tools take up a lot of room-” she started.

“We’ll update you,” Sombra interrupted with her mouth full of a third tamale, “just bring the custom stuff. I’ll download your data.”

“Talon is not your personal financer,” Widowmaker said swinging her hips.

“I will personally make sure you are outfitted with the best equipment available,” Ogundimu assured their recruit. “Just bring the essentials.”

“Then give me fifteen minutes and I’ll be good to go.” Sunshine had this giddiness to her that almost made Reaper chuckle. Almost. Having her around was going to be strange. It had been a very long time since he’d had anything in his life that made him feel anything but rage, hatred, or utter ambivalence. Suddenly he was looking forward to something.

Reaper moved to Sonya’s side. “Go find an escape route and radio me the location,” he said. “I’ll make sure the girl gets there.”

“Why Reaper,” Sombra teased, “it’s so unlike to volunteer to do anything . . . social.”

“And you’re wasting time, as usual,” he snarled.

“Make sure you hurry,” Doomfist said heading to the door with Sombra trailing behind. “And it would be best to travel light, Sunshine. But worry not,” the massive man flashed his perfect teeth,” I will make sure you are taken care of.”

Was that bastard flirting with his daughter? That pinche bastard was flirting with his daughter! Thankfully, the other Talon board member left before Reaper could sink a claw into his neck. Sombra gave Sunshine an enthusiastic thumbs up before darting out of the garage. Widowmaker sauntered along after them, stopping to shoot an intimidating look at the newest member of the group.

“You,” the sniper murmured quietly. Reaper’s hand automatically gravitated to his shotgun. “If you have room, bring whatever you need to make more of these. They are delightful.” The long-legged woman grabbed one last tamale before trotting off, heels clicking.

Sonya slowly turned her head to Reaper, shocked. He was equally stunned. The young woman snorted loudly and burst out laughing. It was endearing as fuck.

**Author's Note:**

> \- Originally Posted at my Tumblr: prettyfunkyunorganized.tumblr.com  
> \- Based on a friend's headcanon post (link pending).


End file.
